


i wanna gouge out your eyes, SPLINTER YOUR SPINE

by feyluke



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Experimental, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Shoosh-Papping, Sober Gamzee Makara, toxic negative pale gamkar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:10:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7265767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feyluke/pseuds/feyluke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>shoosh-pap session. gamzee doesn't like when karkat's attention isn't on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wanna gouge out your eyes, SPLINTER YOUR SPINE

**Author's Note:**

> very likely inspired by _the shining_ , actually, which i'm reading right now, and all the jack torrence fanmixes i've been listening to
> 
> don't think too much about the formatting, it doesn't know what it's doing, much like gamzee,,

one of his favourite topics is how stupid your horn nest is, how loud and annoying and unnecessary it is - _KIND OF LIKE YOU!_ \- and it's so funny: he thinks he's being sneaky when he collects horns to add to your nest

it really used to confuse you, really used to get your thinkpan all in a flurry of cresting waves and bubbles, why he'd go out of his way to talk to you and ask about your day and tell you about his, but then spend most of his time asking _why are you such a waste of space_ and why he chose you for his team if you were _SO USELESS AND SHOULDN'T EVEN BE ON THE TEAM_ and when you got stuck on that meteor together why _you were actually the worst EVEN WORSE THAN BEFORE if that's even possible HOW YOU EVEN SURVIVED TO THIS POINT IS BEYOND HIM_

the sludge made it all mix together and it was confusing but it didn't matter, either. he didn't like you but he was just making you better, he liked you enough not to lie, he was your best motherfucking friend and maybe you weren't his but you were still his friend, in some way, and that was good enough for the sludge because at least he gave you some attention and was usually there for you ... 

it's not confusing anymore

it's all motherfucking crystal clear that you're indigo and he's a red, red little fucker

it's Clear his purpose is to tend to you and finally you're as important to him as he is to you. it's CRYSTAL MOTHER FUCKING CLEAR that you're always at the back of his mind, WALKING THAT TIGHTROPE , and making sure you're okay and it's GOOD AND RIGHT, almost as clear as

images impulses of  
BONES SNAPPING SCOOPING MARROW  
flesh scraping and bleeding  
LICKING BITING SCRATCHING TEARING --

\-- sometimes he gets so angry and preoccupied with the others, especially the human others, that he forgets about you, and you just gotta shoosh him up to remind him that you exist, which is frustrating, you shouldn't have to remind him, and sometimes you'd like to just 

BASH HIS HEAD AGAINST HIS KEYBOARD SO NEXT TIME HE WON'T FORGET 

the funny thing is, even funnier than how his face gets all red and splotchy and how he thinks he has any power, how any of them think they deserve to breathe the same air as you -- 

\-- where where you? right: _him_ having power; _him_ , barely more significant than the dirt under your claws, so motherfucking funny how he doesn't even see how you honour him, how you _chose him and made him important_ \--

\-- the funny thing is: you don't even notice you're being Bad with a Capital B, don't notice that you're being Wrong and Evil and Scary and A Highblood Piece of Shit Deserving Of A Chainsaw Through Your Sick and Unhealthy Thinkpan _(Should I Go On?)_ \--

\-- no, you should MOTHERFUCKING SHUT UP -- 

\-- where were you? 

that's right: the funny thing is that you don't even notice because you're always Bad, this is Who You Are when you don't have that sludge making everything fuzzy and hazy and muting the voices and visions

and what does that pale broad know, anyway? 

she doesn' t know anything,  
SHES TRYING TO STEAL YOUR PALEBRO,  
she's a blowhard know-it-all  
STICKING HER NOSE WHERE IT DOESN'T BELONG  
and wouldn't you just like to  
RUN HER WHIRRING BLADES THROUGH HER FLAPPING JAW AND ---

\-- and you're not Bad, you're Clear and ever since you became Clear, he doesn't get angry with you anymore, he gets all sad and pale and it makes you all sad and pale for him because he really is the best when he looks like he might kill you

you're so sad and pale for him that you let him shoosh you, let him take you to your horn pile and when he draws you into the heat of his chest because he doesn't want you to be Clear and wants to make you Fuzzy fuzzy fuzzy until you just feel small and safe, an image of pushing your claws into and through his chest --

\-- THROUGH SNAPPING BONE AND POPPING LUNGS,  
through through to the floor, comes straight to the front of your thinkpan and  
YOU GRIN AGAINST HIS THROAT  
his warm and soft skin so clear it's translucent  
SOFT AND CLEAR AND PURPLES JUST RIGHT,  
your hand at his ribs --

\-- until he runs a soothing hand across your face your vision settles and the electicity in your brain calms

and you make sure to be still, so still, so none of the horns make a sound, even though  
IT'D BE FUN TO MAKE HIM ANGRY,  
make that pressure in his head build and build  
AND SPLIT HIS SKULL BONE  
(exposing that soft spongy brain matter for you to scoop under your claws to save for later)

 _even though:_ your job is to keep him calm and make that raging shake smooth out into a simmer and coat with calm and slow

so you draw his fingers to your mouth, just to rest there. you bite just a little bit, enough to be affectionate. he thinks it's affection; you can feel his heart happily beat just a tick faster and his chest hum

as his purring envelopes you, keeps you warm and safe and fuzzyfuzzyfuzzy, you picture it so clearly: 

ragged chipped teeth tearing messily into flesh,  
CUTTING THROUGH TENDON,  
crunching bone,  
HAPPILY CHEWING THE DETACHED FINGERS,  
saving bone splinters for later to  
PIERCE AT YOUR OWN THROAT AND REMEMBER HOW GOOD HE TASTES --

\-- he'd get so mad. you practically vibrate with visions of his rage; your skin sears where his scythe might slice if he just _stopped being such a coward and actually did something worthwhile_  
(if he) _STOPPED RUNNING HIS USELESS MOUTH_  
(if he) _finally did what he always mindlessly threatened_  
(and if he) _SPILLED YOUR GUTS OUT ON THE GROUND (SO YOU CAN CHOKE HIM WITH YOUR INTESTINE)_ \--

your erractic purs thrum beneath his, rising and falling like a heart monitor. you close a fist around his wrist, POKE YOUR CLAWS INTO HIS PULSING VEIN --

it's funny: if you pressed just a little more, just a little bit, with your thumb at the back of his palm, you could snap his wrist,  
WHITE BONE POKING OUT,  
his heart sending pulses of  
RED, RED, RED,  
but motherfucker you're so fuzzy fuzzy fuzzy and he's so warm soft and warm, and you could just stay here forever, you're so lucky lucky lucky that he chose you ...

**Author's Note:**

> hmu at [tumblr](http://feyluke.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
